'Might as well have a little fun with them before they go,' he thought.
"A nice parlour trick, but your arrival will make no difference. The planet is already mine!"
Stony silence encompassed everything as the tang of readied magic hung in the air.
With Fredric too consumed to step forward, Flash thought about responding. But before he could do so, the naga king stopped weaving his head from side to side and did it for him.
"Thesssse beeeeings are of noooo ussse toooo yooou. Yoooou WIIIIILL freeee theeeem aaat onnnnnce!" he demanded, referring to the nagas surrounding them on all sides, mixed in with all the dark dragons.
Rolling back his head and rubbing his belly for impact, the wickedly dark Manson roared with laughter, the sound bouncing around the arena sized room they found themselves in.
"Do you really think you have any say in what goes on here? You might have bought yourselves a few more minutes of life by escaping captivity in Antarctica, but I assure you this is the last place you'll ever set eyes on. You will most certainly die here, and it will be an unpleasant death. What's more, you'll die knowing that your race played a crucial role in securing all this for me. How funny is that? The nagas, helping a new breed of dragon overthrow the old guard and instate a new world order. As their king you must be so proud."
Patience was a naga trait, with his having been tested like never before over the course of his captivity in Antarctica. For the most part he'd embraced it, like you would a lover, learning not to fight it, but letting it help you. But here and now his patience had finally run out on seeing the vast scale of deception the being in front of him had committed. Knowing that almost certainly he'd be dead by now if not for the group of brave dragons behind him, he wondered how many of his kind had been affected, how many were left and if this would be his legacy. Grasping all the magic within him and opening up with his telepathic powers, he let out the biggest, most almighty telekinetic scream that he could, hoping to shock those within range out of the dazed stupor they appeared to be in.
Moments passed. NOTHING! Tilting his head just slightly, he glanced back over at the despicable dragon Manson.
"Oh I'm sorry," scoffed the dark and dastardly dragon. "Are you trying to bring them back to your side? I'm afraid that just won't be possible, either currently, or ever at all... marks out of ten for trying though."
Consolidating his magic whilst trying to tame his rage, the naga king's gills pumped furiously on either side of his neck. It was impossible to disguise his feelings.
"You see, the magic they're gripped by is like nothing you've ever seen. Like nothing ever seen on this planet, if I'm quite honest. And your puny little attempt to shock them out of it, so that they can once again bow down and answer to you, is nothing short of pathetic and was doomed to fail right from the very start. I'm afraid they're under my command now, and there's nothing you, or anyone else, can do about it."
Reaching out to the three nagas nearest to him, Vasuki used every ounce of power he possessed in an effort to get through to them. No matter how hard he tried, he got no response. Nothing! Not an eye flicker, a wink, even some semblance of recognition. All three seemed dazed, confused and almost zombie like. For the naga king, it felt as though he'd just had his ass kicked in a fight. Disappointment had almost overwhelmed him during his incarceration, knowing that because of his mistakes his race were without him and were being blackmailed with the threat of his death into doing Manson's bidding. Once again failure blossomed within him, causing his normally well held in check emotions to effectively run wild. With no way to get through to his brethren, how on earth was he supposed to get them to stop, and help his new found allies? Perhaps there was another way, but here and now, he had no idea what it was.
If not for the magical attack decades ago, her face would have been utterly beautiful. Instead of near perfection, it resembled a bodged experiment gone badly wrong, or a child's doll that had been damaged over time by its sadistic owner. Brilliant, purple lines crisscrossed this way and that over the pocked skin, something even the most powerful of magic couldn't undo. Of course she'd tried... long ago, after she'd come to terms with the death of her husband. She hadn't got over it, or forgotten him, quite the opposite in fact. Strange as it may seem, almost everything she did, including, she hoped, becoming Manson's queen, was all for him. Not exactly for him, but to exact revenge for what was done to him by those treacherous, self righteous, stuck up dragons, who all seemed to know what was best for the world and just how to rule it, not from their ivory tower, but from the equivalent deep down within the dragon domain.
Listening to her would-be ruler burst the naga king's bubble, pride shone out across her face, not that it was possible to see given all the damage it had suffered. The only thing that shone out as far as everyone else was concerned was... MADNESS! Clear and evident as ever in both eyes, their pupils resembled black holes; instead of sucking in matter they devoured hope, radiated fear and tore apart anyone they focused on. But like all that suffer from it, she found herself immune from the crazy, mainly due to prolonged exposure. For her, reality was more than a little twisted, even with her schemes, plots and plans of revenge.
And so stuck in her little bubble of insanity, instantly she imagined what she could do to the insignificant little whelp cowering right in front of her, and with little forethought let the magic course up into her hands, holding it their ready to dispatch into the dragon king's little pet. Brilliant sparks of bright red energy leapt across her palm, hissing and smouldering as they did so.
'When it all kicks off,' she thought, 'he'll be the first one to be put down.'
Words had been exhausted on every side. To a creature, they were all balanced on a knife edge, ready to act, ready to die for their leader, and in the nagas' case, compelled by magic to do exactly that.
The king's private residence had seen more than its fair share of history, but this was something else entirely. It would be hard to imagine a standoff that exuded more tension. And so with nearly every being picking their first target and imagining their initial moves, typically it was Manson who got things underway.
Eyes closed, the would-be king of this newly shaped world had already conjured half a dozen black-as-night balls of energy into the palm of his right hand, which he held hidden behind his back. Determined to make the most of the element of surprise, in a blur he brought around his arm and launched the wicked looking balls in the direction of Flash, Fredric and the other new arrivals, powdery black tails trailing in their wake. Pleased with their trajectory and the chaos they would unleash, swiftly he turned his attention back to the dragon king, determined not to make the same mistake as his father, vowing to finish him off there and then. But first he needed access to the damn ring. So far, he'd felt nothing. No connection, no magic, not even a hint of the supernatural power it was supposed to contain. Momentarily he wondered if he was doing something wrong, but he wasn't one for doubts and quickly pushed this aside. Perhaps there was a problem with the ring; after all, the dragon king had seemed genuine when he'd told him about the issues he'd been having. Gathering up his resolve, he tried to submerge the exquisite band on his finger with all his will, madly hoping to take over its consciousness and benefit from all its power.